Marie left a comment this morning, reminiscing about what it is like to camp in tent when you are drinking. I always remember back to my drunken days when I am camping. Those horrible mornings, coming to, sick as a dog, in a tent. ugh. A hot tent makes any sickness worse, but a hangover has to be the worst. I sure did like to drink while sitting around a campfire at night. I sure didn't like to wake up with the consequences of those drinks though.
Today I am the grandmother. My little granddaughters fought over who would share my tent. My daughter had a larger tent, so she took the 10 year old both nights. My tent barely held me and my tiny beloved M - now with both front teeth gone. No one would have wanted to share a tent with me in the old days. You know, alcoholism comes with some pretty gruesome smells. I can't imagine being cooped up in a small place with a drunk.
OK - enough of that! I am feeling kind of queasy just thinking about it!
We drove all day, stuck in some horrendous traffic for hours, moving inch by inch towards home. Now I have had a long bath, I have lathered my poor feet with Un-petroleum Jelly and have socks on them. I have clean jammies, clean hair, clean teeth and freshly ironed pillow cases on the bed. I will enjoy it, and hope to sleep all night.
I am grateful to be sober. I am particularly grateful that it is "not an issue" with my family. I don't need to talk about my sobriety with them. They just get to experience a sober mother and grandmother. I can thank God for that. But I don't need to remind my family of it. They just think it is "normal," I know it is anything but. Part of living amends to my family is to let them think it is "normal" - they don't need to think about it or worry about me.
I know it is the grace of God. Without which I would be a drunken mess - if I were unfortunate to still be alive.